


It's All in the Taking

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Series: The Details [3]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dom/sub, M/M, Punishment, no pain, rafael you fucking idiot, squad cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13098786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: Rafael breaks the rules. Rafael has to get punished. But there's no pain involved; they don't work that way.





	It's All in the Taking

The trial goes to hell shortly after it starts. Buchanan, in an even more disgusting show of his amoral standards than usual, calls a witness on the first day who testifies that the victim, a 23-year-old man who had been raped while drunk, had always bragged about how good drunken sex was. Add to the fact the man is claiming rape by a woman, and Barba can count off how many jurors they lose by lunch. 

"You didn't think to ask him about drunk sex?!" Barba asks when he and the squad are behind his closed office door.

"We did," Liv says in her slow, 'be careful about your next step,' tone. "He told us he'd had it before and enjoyed it. We talked to the witness. He didn't mention any bragging to us."

"Do you understand how to be _detectives_?" 

"Seems like maybe the DA's office dropped the ball, too," Rollins jumps in, "if your guys didn't do a second run on our background witnesses like you said they would."

"Don't hang us out to dry because we asked and he withheld," Fin adds. 

"We lost the jury," Sonny says from the back of the room, "but we've got time to bring them back. You didn't get to start your cross before lunch. When the guy's back on the stand, ask him if he thinks a drunk woman can say no during sex. If he says yes, then point out the same thing happened to his friend. If he says no, the jury will see he's a scumbag."

Rafael glares at him. "Detective, when I want legal advice from you, I'll give myself a head injury so I forget who you are and still not ask you."

The room goes absolutely silent. Sonny doesn't flinch. He straightens up from his slouch against the wall and checks his watch. "Wanna hit the falafel place, Rollins? Fin?"

"...sure," Rollins says, looking from Rafael to Sonny, then back again. 

"Sounds good," Fin answers like the room isn't charged to blow. 

"Great. Lieu, you in?"

Liv stares at Barba, clearly trying to decide whose side she's on. "That sounds good," she says, and turns to follow Rollins and Fin towards the door. 

Sonny holds it open for the three of them, then turns and meets Rafael's gaze. "Drink a cold glass of water. Eat a good lunch. We'll see you back in the courtroom." None of it is negotiable. 

Rafael stands stiff and angry until the door latches quietly. "Fuck," he mutters. 

There's a knock two minutes later, then Carmen pokes her head in. "Carisi said you wanted ham and swiss with spinach and tomato, a mixed greens salad, and a big water. Anything else?"

Rafael sighs deeply and shakes his head. "No. That's fine. Thank you." Carmen nods and closes the door behind her. Rafael walks around his desk and drops hard into his chair. He presses his palms against his eyes and hates himself until Carmen walks back in with his food.

He eats a good lunch. He drinks the cold water. He presses his thumb to the Lady Justice medal under his shirt and wonders exactly how he's going to tell Sonny he's sorry. 

*

The squad is back in the courtroom after lunch. Rollins and Fin don't look at him. Liv gives him a half-glance that tells him he's still in the doghouse. Sonny meets his eyes, gives him a soft smile, and mouths, 'Get it.' The others don't see him do it.

Rafael lets himself feel like a complete asshole for ten seconds as he takes out his legal pad and a pen and closes his briefcase again. By the time he snaps it shut, he's focused and ready. When the Judge nods at him to start, he re-calls Buchanan's witness and gives the jury a moment to take him in before he approaches. He makes a decision before he starts to walk towards the witness stand that he will do everything to minimize acknowledgment of the defendant. This performance he's about to start isn't about her. It's about the victim. 

"To refresh everyone's recollection," Rafael begins, "could I please have you confirm one of the answers you gave Mr. Buchanan?"

"Of course," the witness says. He's sitting up straight, his suit jacket creased at the elbows meaning he wore it through lunch. Barba wishes he could pause proceedings to explain to the man how to take better care of his clothes. 

"Mr. Buchanan asked you if the victim ever mentioned drunken sex, and you said he had, correct?"

"That's correct."

"And you also said, in answer to a question from Mr. Buchanan, that the victim had talked about how much he liked drunken sex."

"That's right."

"Thank you." Barba gives the witness a polite smile, making it a touch more personal when he glances at the jury. They're interested. A few of them even look curious. Not bad for a post-lunch crowd. Barba walks over to his table and looks down at his notes. What he's going to ask isn't listed, but he wants to build a moment of contemplation. He can feel the jury following his movements. Excellent. 

"Tell me, Mr. Matthews," Barba starts, smiling when he says the man's name. "Do you have a sister?"

"Objection. Relevance," Buchanan says, sounding bored. 

"Your honor, it speaks to possible prejudice on the witness's side. I promise it's a straight line of questioning." 

The judge eyes Rafael for a long moment. They've had their run-ins a few times, but she's fair and scrupulous, and she'll yank him out of the courtroom by his shirt collar if he oversteps. "Overruled for the moment," she says.

"Thank you, your honor." Rafael gives her a small nod. He sees three jurors look especially impressed at that. He also catches Buchanan pretending to straighten his sock so the jurors can't see him roll his eyes. Rafael doesn't check on the defendant; he needs to keep things moving.

"So, Mr. Matthews," Rafael says, walking slowly back towards the witness box, positioning himself so the defendant is at least half-hidden from most of the jury. This is not about her, he's telling the jury. This is about the victim. "Do you have a sister?" 

"I do." 

"What's her name?"

Mr. Matthews glances at the judge. The judge nods. Rafael swallows a smirk. The jury will notice that, and it undermines Buchanan's authority nicely. "Melissa," Mr. Matthews says.

"I like that name," Rafael says like it's off-handed. "Now, this next question is personal, Mr. Matthews, but I promise I won't ask for details. Has Melissa ever come to you and talked about someone trying to pressure her into sex?"

Mr. Matthews looks confused, but his eyes stay on Barba. He's as curious as everyone else where this is going. "Yeah. A few times."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rafael says, and he doesn't have to fake the sincerity in his voice. He is sorry. This is why he does the job he does. Why he works so hard to be the absolute best at it. "Now, another personal question, but again, no details needed. Has your sister ever talked to you about her sex life?"

Mr. Matthews grimaces. "Yeah. Some."

Rafael gives him a conspiring look. "Not your favorite topic?"

"Not when she goes into detail."

There are a couple chuckles from the jury. Perfect. They like Mr. Matthews. They identify with an over-sharing sibling. "Understandable. Now, Mr. Matthews, have you ever had a problem telling the difference between your sister complaining about someone trying to coerce her and her choosing to have sex with someone?"

"Of course not!" He says it a bit too loud, but the jury likes it. He's protective. How dare anyone ask such a question. 

"Mr. Matthews, the victim did not talk to you about his assault, did he?"

"No."

"Did you ever talk to the victim about your sister discussing attempted coercion?"

"Yeah. Of course. I mean, he's got a sister, too. We've got to look out for them."

Rafael's pretty sure two of the jurors are lightly in love. Beautiful. "Of course. You're both good men."

"Yeah."

Rafael licks the back of his teeth, tasting his next question. This is the turn in the road. He has to be careful. "Mr. Matthews, has your sister ever discussed having drunken sex?"

The air around the jury damn near gives off heat as the question hits home. Behind him, Barba can hear the tiny 'snap' of the pencil tip Buchanan's just broken in half and the squeak of the chair as the defendant sits up straighter. You fucking monsters, Barba thinks, pleasant smile never leaving his face as he waits for Mr. Matthews to answer. 

And it's taking Mr. Matthews longer than before. He looks like someone's knocked the air out of him. Rafael does not demand he answer. He lets the silence run, lets the jury sit in it with them. He lets them feel the shift in Mr. Matthews' thinking as they feel the same shift within themselves. 

"Yeah," Mr. Matthews says finally. "A couple times."

Rafael makes certain to soften his tone, to turn this into a compassionate conversation and not an interrogation. "Did she enjoy it?"

"Yeah." Mr. Matthews swallows hard. He still looks completely blindsided. 

"And did she ever tell you a story about someone trying to have sex with her when she was drunk, and she said no?"

Mr. Matthews nods, then clears his throat, then clears his throat again. "Yeah," he says. 

"And could you, Mr. Matthews, easily distinguish between the two events and know they were different?"

Mr. Matthews follows Barba with his eyes as Barba crosses the room. "Yeah," he says, and it's so close to a whisper Barba almost asks him to repeat it. But it would break the tempo, and he needs to hit the crescendo. 

"Mr. Matthews, if the victim had come to you and explained he had been drunk and told a woman no, and she had forced herself on him, would you have been able to tell the difference between his enjoyment of consensual drunken sex and rape?"

Rafael keeps his expression soft when Mr. Matthews looks at the jury, then at the defendant, then back to him. Inside, he's cheering. He couldn't have planned the reaction better if he'd scripted it. "Mr. Matthews?" Rafael prompts. 

"I…" Mr Matthews shakes his head. "I don't know. Honestly, I don't know. I mean, if he was a woman, yeah, but I...he's a guy, and that's...I mean--"

"Thank you, Mr. Matthews," Rafael says to stop him from trying to explain the confusion. He doesn't need Mr. Matthews for that. The jury's figured it out for themselves, and Rafael finally lets himself look at the defendant. She's tense and angry, trying to keep a neutral expression and failing miserably. Buchanan's calling character witnesses next, and the jury is primed to ignore them. 

"No further questions, your honor." Rafael takes a quick glance at the squad as he sits. Liv meets his eyes. He's off the hook from earlier. Rollins nods approval, as done Fin. Sonny adds his own nod and lightly touches his tie, a signal they've worked out so Sonny can tell Rafael he's proud of him without saying the words. Rafael turns back to face the room as Buchanan calls his first character witness. He adjusts his tie so he can feel the the chain of his necklace just to the side of the knot. There will still be punishment to pay tonight. No way around it. But Rafael wants to make good. He wants to show Sonny he knows he's better than the man he pretended to be at lunch. 

*

The character witnesses take only three questions to topple. 

"Have you ever been with the defendant when she's drunk?"

"Has she ever become aggressive verbally or physically when drunk and in your presence?"

"Could you please tell us what happened?"

A violent drunk, as Rafael knows from his own experiences, is a predictable drunk. The defendant is a white wine drunk, it turns out. Somewhere around glass four, she gets surly and accusatory, and once glass four is finished, she starts shoving and demanding. The character witnesses try to play it off, explaining that they've always found it funny, but the jury doesn't believe it, especially when the second witness has to visibly hold back tears while saying it. 

Rafael doesn't call her out for perjury. He does circle her name so Liv can follow up after the trial and pass along some advice about therapy. 

The judge declares the day done after the third character witness steps down. The jury leaves. The bailiffs take the defendant to holding, and Buchanan crosses the aisle just as Rafael knew he would. 

"Crafty bit of work mentioning a sister," Buchanan says. 

"Sister, mother, niece, cousin, granddaughter; if the GOP can list them to claim feminism, I figured the jury could figure out there should be no difference in response for rape victims."

Buchanan harrumphs. Rafael tosses his legal pad and pen into his briefcase and waits him out. "A deal," Buchanan says. "3 years with time served."

"Not a chance. Go home, lick your wounds, and come back in the morning with something that isn't a fever dream." 

Buchanan cuts a look over Rafael's shoulder. "Oh," he says, all fake sincerity. "I didn't realize you needed to walk the puppy tonight."

"Keep that shit up, I'll piss on your shoes," Sonny says casually. 

Rafael turns to look at him, and Sonny gives him a smile. Rafael returns it. "Goodnight, John," he says without looking at him again. "If you come back with a single digit offer, I will happily throw you around the courtroom the rest of the week."

He and Sonny walk side-by-side as they leave the courthouse. "I called a car," Sonny says, waving his phone. "Should be here in a couple of minutes."

"Okay." They reach the bottom of the steps, and Rafael rocks back and forth on his heels to release the tension that's trying to build. "I'm sorry," he says, turning to look at Sonny. "What I said was awful, and it was wrong, and I should never have said it."

Sonny steps a little closer so they're almost nose-to-nose. "We'll talk about it at home," Sonny says. "But thank you for apologizing." He reaches up and tweaks Rafael's ear. "I accept."

"Thank you." Rafael concentrates on the small, throbbing pain of his ear. It's the only pain he'll receive tonight. It's the most pain Sonny's ever made him take. 

How they work, pain isn't the answer to misbehavior. Rafael's past and Sonny's nature don't function that way. In the beginning, before the collar but after they agreed to try Sonny dominating Rafael outside of bed, Rafael had thought he wanted pain for punishment. He thought he wanted to be spanked or slapped. But Sonny had refused outright. There was no way, he'd said, that he could do those things to Rafael. Punishment was about reminding Rafael what he'd promised and that he'd failed, but that didn't mean it had to hurt. Rafael had still wanted something painful, a little shock to the system to help him focus. Sonny had tweaked his ear, and it had been perfect. Just enough to clear Rafael's mind, so little pain Sonny considered it negligible. 

"When we get in the car," Sonny says, "You go in first and sit against the far door."

"Where will you be?" 

"Against my own door."

Rafael feels a small loss. On the days they go home together, Sonny sits against his door, and Rafael usually gets to sit wherever he wants. He usually sits next to Sonny and they hold hands and Rafael leans into Sonny all the way home. "Will we hold hands?"

Sonny thinks about it, and the car pulls up. "Maybe," he says. 

Rafael gets in the car and positions himself as ordered. Sonny settles himself as he's said. They don't speak for the first half of the drive. Then Sonny says Rafael's name quietly, and Rafael looks over. Sonny is holding out his hand. Rafael takes it. The small loss gets smaller, but it doesn't go away. 

When they get home, Sonny leads Rafael out of the car by their joined hands, but he doesn't pull Rafael close like he usually does. They walk into the building, Sonny greeting the doorman with a quiet hello, and they get on the elevator. Sonny presses the button for their floor and leans against the back wall. He doesn't stop Rafael from settling next to him, but he doesn't encourage him either. 

When they get inside the apartment, Sonny drops Rafael's hand slowly, then removes his suit jacket and his shoes and his vest. He waits for Rafael to do the same, then opens his arms. "Come here," he says softly.

Rafael folds against him and wraps his arms tightly around Sonny's middle. He doesn't speak. He breathes in Sonny's scent and presses his head into Sonny's chest. 

"I accept your apology," Sonny says quietly after a few moments. "I don't want you to forget that, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm proud of you for apologizing. It's hard to apologize. You did it honestly and without prompting, and you should be proud of that. You've worked hard to be better at it. I love you so much"

"Thank you," Rafael says. Relief is trickling through him, but with it comes nervousness. This is how the punishment always starts: Sonny lets him know that he loves him and that he's proud of him and that Rafael has made effort and it's valued. It's the careful first step into the harder part, where Sonny has to impart a lesson to help Rafael better remember how to act and why he wants to act that way. 

"After I let you go from this," and Sonny tightens his arms around Rafael's waist, "we're going to spend the evening like we always do. We're going to shower, and we're going to have dinner, and we're going to watch something or read."

Rafael tenses. Sonny runs his hands up and down his back and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Breathe," Sonny says. Rafael does, taking a slow breath in, then a slow breath out. "Good." Rafael does it again. "Are you ready to hear the rest?"

Rafael isn't, but he's never ready to hear his punishments. "Yes," he murmurs. 

"We're going to do everything we usually do, but there will be two differences: One, I will be getting anything you need. If you need the shampoo in the shower, you ask for it. If you need a fork, you ask for it. I will not deny you any physical object you need. Okay?"

"Okay."

"And two, we will not be touching like we usually do. I will not wash your hair. You will not wash my back. We won't sit on the same side of the table. We will sit on opposite ends of the couch. We will not hug or hold hands or cuddle. I want you to be aware of the distance you tried to create today. I want you to feel what you tried to cause. You will not explain yourself until after dinner. I want you to use the time to think about why you reacted like you did." Sonny presses another kiss to Rafael's forehead, this one lingering. "Okay?"

It's not okay. At all. But Rafael can't argue it's an unfair punishment. He had been trying to create distance, and he had lashed out, and he has to take responsibility for what he's done. He breathes in slowly and looks up to meet Sonny's eyes. "Can I have a kiss, at least? Before we start?"

Sonny cups his face and kisses him softly, licking slowly into his mouth and running his fingers into his hair and humming approval when Rafael mirrors the gesture. He breaks the kiss off in a series of smaller kisses, each one lighter than the last. When he's finished, he keeps Rafael's face in his hands. "I love you," he says. 

"I love you," Rafael replies. He takes a deep breath and slowly steps out of Sonny's embrace. The flash of pride in Sonny's eyes makes it worth it, although it hurts like hell. 

"Shower first," Sonny says, and he follows behind Rafael, no hand on the small of his back, no crowding him with hugs or kisses or promises of shower blowjobs. 

Sonny starts the water while Rafael strips down.Rafael makes certain not to touch Sonny as they change places, and Sonny flashes him a small smile. Pride and loss both ping hard in Rafael's chest. He steps into the shower and wets his hair as Sonny steps in from the back of the tub. 

"Shampoo, please," Rafael says. Sonny hands it to him. Rafael takes what he needs, then hands it back, moving out from under the water to lather while Sonny gets himself rinsed off. 

Sonny also hands him the conditioner and the body wash and the back scrubber--something so rarely used now that no old body wash bubbles up when Rafael dampens it. It makes him think about how much of his shower routine now is Sonny taking charge. Sonny washing his hair, his back, the rest of his body. Sonny murmuring sweet nothings in his ear and laughing when Rafael pulls him under the spray for quick, water-filled kisses. 

He gets none of that tonight. He and Sonny shower and don't touch and don't talk. Rafael knows he can say anything he wants, but there's nothing to say. The shower has become a place where they can simply enjoy each other, and to bring up anything outside of endearments or gleeful, sexual promises, doesn't feel right. 

Drying himself off after the shower doesn't bother him. He always towels himself off. Sonny had tried it once, an attempt to pamper Rafael that didn't work out because Rafael's secretly ticklish in four places, and no matter how vigorously Sonny rubbed, Rafael broke down in laughter. 

"Get into pajamas," Sonny says as he dries off himself. "Something cozy."

"Okay," Rafael agrees. He walks into the bedroom and stares at his pajama drawer for a long moment before taking out a pair of flannel bottoms and closing the drawer. He pulls them on, then opens the third drawer down. He pulls out one of Sonny's T-shirts, one that's stretched and worn from use. It's tight at the shoulders, but it feels nice. It reminds Rafael of the way Sonny usually holds him close. He pauses before he leaves the bedroom and glances back at the dresser. On the top, there's a simple but elegant wooden box. He walks over and opens it. Laid out against velvet is his leather collar, supple and stamped in gold letters with RAFAEL. He picks it up in both hands and turns as Sonny walks into the room, holding it out in both hands in a way he rarely does.

Sonny looks him over, then looks at the collar. "Why?" he asks. 

"I want the weight of it," Rafael replies. "It helps."

"How does it help?" Sonny's tone is incredibly soft and patient. He's always insisted it is Rafael's collar, and Rafael can choose when to wear it as long as he can explain himself. Given Rafael is currently being punished because he _didn't_ explain himself, he is so glad Sonny is willing to listen.

"I know you love me, and I know I'm being punished for breaking the rules, This," Rafael holds up his leather collar, "weighs more than this," he lets go of the collar with his right hand so he can tap his Lady Justice medal. "I need the extra weight to reinforce it's true. That you love me, I mean."

Sonny walks over and takes the collar from Rafael. "Turn around." He unclasps the Lady Justice medal, which Rafael catches in a pool in his hand. He fastens on the leather collar, working slow and careful, letting his fingertips brush against Rafael's skin. "It's okay that you need a reminder when you're being punished," Sonny says quietly into Rafael's ear. "Punishment is difficult. You did the right thing asking for what you need."

Rafael doesn't ask if that means his punishment is over. He knows the answer already. Just because he's asked for help by wearing his leather collar doesn't mean he's off the hook for not asking for help before. Punishment isn't about Rafael returning a rote answer or behavior; it's about Rafael being given a safe space and time to reflect on what he did and understanding how he can do better.

"Here," Sonny says, holding out his hand.

Rafael drops the medal into his outstretched hand and watches as Sonny lays it out neatly on the dresser. 

Sonny gives him a soft, encouraging smile, and touches the collar, but not Rafael. "Go sit at the table. Do you want a drink?"

"Whatever you're having," Rafael answers, desperate to have some sort of closeness even though Sonny will only be across the table. 

"Okay."

Rafael walks into the dining nook and sits at the table. Sonny follows after him, dressed in his own flannel bottoms, and a T-shirt stamped with HARVARD HUSBAND. He'd bought it without telling Rafael, pulling it out one night to get ready for bed, and Rafael had laughed and pulled him into a warm, casual kiss. Watching Sonny pour them both wine while wearing it gives Rafael that sense of loss again, but the weight of the collar on his neck reminds him Sonny loves him enough to do things like buy stupid t-shirts and help him take care of himself. 

"Here you go," Sonny says, placing a glass in front of Rafael. He places the other at his usual spot, next to Rafael, freezes, then moves the glass to the chair across from Rafael. He gives Rafael a wry smile. 

Rafael smiles back and means it. Sonny doesn't like the enforced space any more than he does, and he also knows the slip wasn't on purpose. Sonny doesn't do things like that. Rafael sips his wine and rolls his shoulders to relax them as he watches Sonny make sandwiches. "I'd like mustard," Rafael says.

"Okay," Sonny replies. He finishes making the sandwiches and brings them to the table. He sets down both plates then takes his own seat. "Do you need anything else?"

The sandwich is thick-cut roast beef and tomato with a slice of cheese and one dark green leaf of lettuce. Roast beef is comfort food for the both of them, and Rafael shakes his head at Sonny's question. "No," he adds when Sonny keeps looking at him. He has to speak when he's being punished. It's one of the rules.

"Eat," Sonny says, and he beams when Rafael takes a bite and chews happily. 

They eat in silence, but it's not awkward. Rafael's punishments are usually fairly quiet, and he's come to appreciate it. It gives him real time to think and understand what he's done. Rather than commiserate with his friends, he lashed out. Rather than allow Sonny to reassure him, he was cruel. Rather than offering Sonny constructive feedback on his suggestion, he'd cut him down. He hadn't taken good care of himself when he'd done those things. He'd thrown up walls and pushed everyone to try and make them leave him so he could feel sorry for himself. His behavior was unfair, at the least, and deeply disrespectful of his relationships at worst. 

"Rafael," Sonny says.

Rafael looks up from his sandwich. Sonny has his hand open, reaching across the table. "You're sure?" Rafael asks.

"I can see you're thinking," Sonny says. 

Rafael takes his hand, concentrating on the warmth of it, the feel of Sonny's thumb running back and forth over his fingers. It keeps his thoughts from spiraling into a pit of self-disappointment. Sonny's hold reminds him he's not alone with his fear and that he can be forgiven and loved. 

"Couch," Sonny says when they've both finished their sandwiches and their wine. "Do you want more wine or some water?"

"I'd like both, please." Rafael sits on the couch and pulls a throw over his legs. He reaches for his book, which is on the side table, and he opens to the bookmark. He thanks Sonny quietly when Sonny sets a fresh glass of wine and a tall glass of water on the side table. 

"You're welcome," Sonny says, and he presses a light kiss to Rafael's head. 

Rafael tries to read while Sonny puts a basketball game on and turns the volume low. He can't go half a page without thinking about what he did, how mean he was, and how grateful he is that Sonny understands. After four very slowly read pages, Rafael marks his place, puts his book down, and turns to face Sonny. Sonny is already watching him. "I'm sorry," Rafael says. "I'm sorry for what I did."

"You've apologized already, and I've accepted it," Sonny replies. He never makes Rafael apologize after he's accepted the apology. There are times it takes Rafael more than once to get the apology right, but Sonny always forgives him. 

"Not for what I said," Rafael says. "I'm sorry for pulling away and lashing out at everyone. I'm sorry I had trouble communicating what I needed."

"What did you need?"

Rafael thinks about it one more time before he answers. He wants to be certain in his feelings. "I needed support because this trial is difficult. I needed to vent _about_ Buchanan's tactics, not blame the squad instead." He takes a drink of water. "I needed reassurance, but when you gave it to me, I looked at you and was worried I couldn't do it."

"Couldn't do what?"

Rafael takes a deep breath and makes sure to look Sonny in the eyes. "I was worried I couldn't get a conviction. I don't want that woman to walk away from this on some minor charge like Donna Marshall did. I didn't want to leave another male victim in limbo about their feelings like Tommy was when she didn't go to prison."

Sonny slides down the couch and pulls Rafael to him. Rafael sags hard against him and breathes out hard. "You did the absolute best you could for Tommy," Sonny says into his hair. "He and Bella think the world of you because you stood up and spoke for them. I think the world of you because you stood up for him. You worked so hard to put her in prison. It's not lack of effort or talent on your part that let her walk away; it's the expectations of who can be a rapist."

Rafael keeps his breathing steady, fisting his hands in Sonny's t-shirt. "I should apologize to the squad," he says.

"They already forgive you," Sonny says. "Lunch was one, long conversation about how Rollins wanted to knock your teeth out but also hoped you didn't feel like we'd abandoned you even though you were a dick. She and Fin and Lieu understood why you were frustrated and that you didn't mean what you said. Once I convinced them I wasn't taking real offense to what you said to me, they were fine."

"I wanted you to know I listened to you," Rafael says. "My entire cross--" he stops short, not sure what words to use. 

"I was there," Sonny says with deep warmth. "Watching you mesmerize the room, god, it was like when I first watched you work. You looked like you'd materialized to save the world. That the only reason you exist is to make things right." Sonny kisses Rafael's forehead, then tips his head up and kisses him on the mouth. "I was so proud watching you."

Rafael loosens his grip on Sonny's shirt. "I was proud of myself," he says, and Sonny gives him another kiss. "It was a good cross."

"It was an amazing cross," Sonny says. His smile is soft, his eyes liquid. "You are an amazing person, Rafael, and we all want to help you feel that."

"I know that now," Rafael says. "I'm sorry I blocked it out in my office."

"You're doing so much better than you used to. It's been months since you had to be punished for this. I'm proud of you for learning and doing better." 

Rafael shudders out a breath. This is the hardest part; accepting praise at improving after he's done something bad enough to be punished in the first place. "Thank you," he says quietly, but it carries. 

"You're welcome," Sonny says. He strokes down Rafael's neck and traces the line of the collar. He hooks his index finger into the leather loop on the front and gives a small tug, just enough to make Rafael go pliant and close his eyes in expectation. 

"Follow me," Sonny says, and he lays down slowly, bringing Rafael with him inch-by-inch. By the time Sonny is on his back, Rafael is half-draped on his front, head turned to look at the basketball game on the television. They lie in silence, Sonny keeping his finger in the loop, and Rafael being lulled into full rest by Sonny's heartbeat.

"So proud of you," Sonny murmurs into Rafael's hair a little later, and Rafael absolutely believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> Think there's one more story coming from this universe, and then I'll probably tie a bow on it. I'm so happy it's being so enjoyed.


End file.
